


Time To Breathe

by SimzaFistFace



Category: Constantine, DC - Fandom, Hellblazer, Legends of Tomorrow
Genre: Constantine - Freeform, Dom/sub, F/M, Filth, PWP, Smut, Sub!John, dom!reader, explicit - Freeform, reader - Freeform, sub!Constantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimzaFistFace/pseuds/SimzaFistFace
Summary: Sometimes, John needs to let go. When he decides it's time, control has to be wrestled out of his hands. But now its time it break.





	Time To Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> An urge struck. I don't know what this is

Most times when he found himself stuck, John could think back and pinpoint the exact moment that he had gotten himself into a mess. This, though. This wasnt so easy to remember.

Maybe it was because all he could think about was how hard the chair he sat on was, how irritating the tie around his wrists was, or how his shoulders strainted uncomfortably in their position, arms wrapped around the back of the chair. He couldn't focus on anything but how the chilled air of the room stung and prickled his sweat-slicked skin, overheated and flushed red. He felt like he could barely breathe, like his head was underwater as his lungs screamed for oxygen. His body was a live wire, sparking and buzzing with tension. Every muscle was nearly vibrating with anticipation. The churning in his guts began to grow tight, pulling and stretching and tugging and twisting-

"Please," he rasped, his eyebrows pinching so hard he could swear the muscles in his forehead cramped.

You looked down at him from where you stood, confident in front of him with your hands on your hips. You were as naked as he was, but you were his polar opposite. Cool, collected, and calculated. A goddamn succubus. Well, not really. But John would swear on his life that you had learned your tricks from one.

"Please what, Johnny?" you cooed, leaning down to run your fingertip down the length of his cock. It was painful, aching and swollen red, and the feather light touch made him jerk in his seat with a grunt.

"God, please, mistress," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Please, more...give me more."

"Oh, Johnny, you're so pretty when you beg." You had broken him, It had taken a couple hours of teasing, edging, pushing, bending- downright torture- but you had done it. After all, it was what he came here for.

You moved closer and he leaned back to give you space, looking up at you with glassy eyes. Sitting in his lap and straddling his thighs, your hands came up to rake through his already messy and damp hair.

"You want to come?"

"Yes- Christ, please-"

"Shhh...I'll let you come, Johnny."

You lifted yourself up on your toes, one hand holding his shoulder to keep your balance. With the other, you reached down and grasped him around the base, pulling a keening whine from between his teeth. You teased yourself with his cockhead, smearing your own slick across your clit, humming and shuddering. Judging by how wet you were, John reckoned this hadn't been easy for you either. In one fell swoop, you sank down, his girth stretching you open for the first time this evening. The ache was incredible, dancing the line between pleasure and pain.

John couldn't help but shout, curling against you. It was hot, tight, too much, far too much-

And then you started to move, bouncing in his lap at a brutal pace. He wouldn't last- he couldn't. You were too much, felt too good. He panted hard against your neck, each drop of your hips punching a grunt or groan out of his chest with brutal effeciency.

Then he felt it, felt everything pulling tight- fire licking down his spine and spiraling in his pelvis.

"Oh- love, fuck- I'm-"

He tried to warn you, tried to be good. He really did. Then it snapped. And like you could sense it, you sheathed him as deeply in your cunt as you could, setting your pace to a slow and circular grind and gasping when he bottomed out.

John tensed and quivered as he came, every throb and pulse fucking up his heart beat as you milked him for every single drop. This was going to kill him and he was ready. This had to be his everlasting reward- he had escaped damnation for obliteraing pleasure.

Finally, after a lifetime, his orgasm ebbed away, leaving him limp and weak and numb. He was finally able to pull in a full breath, gasping.

Leaning forward, you slipped your hands around his elbows to release his bonds. His shoulders settled forward and he pulled you close, chest to chest. You held him then, fingers stroking along his back.

"Thank you," he breahted against your neck, licking his dry and chapped lips.

"Of course, Johnny," you replied softly. "You did so good...so good for me..."

They were quiet for a few moments, just letting what had transpired sink in.

"Let me run you a bath, okay?"

He couldn't do much more than nod. He felt weak, stretched so thin but so, so good. Like a weight had been lifted, that he could breathe on his own. He would be alright. When you stood and moved toward the en suite bathroom, he smirked a little at the sight. He had enjoyed your game, what he had asked of you- immensely so. But it definitely wasn't over. He would repay the favor.


End file.
